THE REALIZATION OF A HOPELESS LOVE.
I opened my eyes--it was broad daylight, and for some moments I lay
dreamily surveying the familiar objects in my room, unconscious of all
that had happened to me during the previous night. Then, noticing that I
was fully dressed, a sudden realization of it all came upon me, and,
springing to my feet, I excitedly paced up and down my room, pinching my
arms and legs to make sure that they were in normal condition.
Satisfying myself upon this point, I then looked at the time, and, to my
astonishment, found that it was noon.
As Mars passed out of wave contact about one o'clock in the morning, I
must have slept eleven hours after the return of my spirit to Earth. I
had greatly feared that even if it were my good fortune ever to regain
consciousness, it would be only to discover that I had lost the use of
my limbs and was powerless to move. That the super-radium current would
preserve my body in such a natural condition as even to induce sleep I
would not have believed possible. Yet there was every indication that I
had awakened from a natural sleep. I felt fresh and full of vigor, and
there on my couch lay the cone which, in my sleep, I had unfastened and,
in turning over, crushed. If I had remained unconscious the entire time
there would not have been this evidence of restlessness, and I
considered it of importance as being proof that my sleep had been
natural. Beyond this, however, I did not consider the removal of the
cone from my face as important, as the chloroform must have completely
evaporated soon after I became unconscious.
Now that I was once again in my laboratory with the humdrum life of a
matter-of-fact world surging about me, evincing itself by the continual
roar of traffic which reached me through the open window, my remarkable
adventure of the night before seemed like a strange dream. As there was
no tangible proof that I had actually been on Mars, I might have been
led to the conclusion that I had chloroformed myself into
unconsciousness only, and had passed from this state into a deep sleep,
in which I had dreamed my remarkable experiences. But the clearness and
consistency of every detail were amply sufficient to convince me of the
genuineness of my experiences on Mars, and that the characters, so
vividly portrayed in my mind, lived in flesh and blood on a world
millions of miles away. Much more convincing than this, however, was the
moral obligation that I felt incumbent upon me--a duty I owed to
another. No dream could have left me with this keen sense of
responsibility.
Alas, I knew only too well that I loved, with an impossible love, a
beautiful being of another planet, and that my duty lay in the
renunciation of this love to Almos, its rightful possessor.
Thus my discovery had not brought me the joy of triumph. The proud
moments in an inventor's career when he holds up to the world the fruit
of his ingenuity and study could not be mine. Indeed, the thought of the
excitement that the news of such easy communication with Mars would
cause, if I demonstrated its truth before reputable scientists, made me
determined to guard the secret of my discovery the more jealously.
Hundreds of instruments similar to mine would be made, and it would soon
become known to all the inhabitants of Mars that they could talk to the
people of Earth, resulting in constant communication from all parts of
both planets. Such an innovation would soon be a regular pastime of the
rich. It would then be impossible for me to visit Mars again, as the
crossing of the currents of super-radium would add a grave danger to
such an undertaking.
The possibility of my secret becoming known through an accident (someone
breaking into my room or overhearing me talk with Almos) now occurred to
me, and, in the fear of my being separated from Zarlah forever, I
determined upon another visit to Mars that evening.
I had planned to tell Almos at once of my thoughtless confession of love
to Zarlah, but in an effort to justify my great desire to see her again,
I now saw several important reasons for postponing this. I had given my
promise to Zarlah to be with her the following evening, and it seemed
only honorable for me first to fulfil my promise to her. Moreover, under
the circumstances, it might be embarrassing for Almos to meet her upon
such short notice. When a man takes a step of this kind, he usually has
spent some time in consideration beforehand, how much more necessary,
then, is time for consideration when this step has been taken for him. I
therefore decided to keep my promise to Zarlah and to endeavor to visit
Mars again during the next wave contact.
I did not regret having left the note for Almos, however, as I had no
means of telling whether the mechanism of the virator had done what was
expected of it, or not. Almos' life depended upon the accurate working
of this mechanism after I had gone, and I was anxious to learn of his
safety. He would also want to learn of my safe arrival before preparing
himself for another undertaking of the kind; to see each other was
therefore necessary. Almos would undoubtedly have warned me of this, had
not the cessation of wave contact prevented him from giving me
instructions.
It was late in the afternoon when a feeling of intense hunger reminded
me that I had not tasted food for twenty-four hours. I contented myself,
however, with a light meal at a neighboring cafe, knowing the danger of
eating heavily at this time. To my great surprise, I found that this
small amount of food was evidently all my system required. Not only was
my hunger appeased, but, while returning to my rooms, I was conscious of
a strength and vigor which were entirely new to me, and which I now
remembered I had first experienced upon awakening. Could it be that the
super-radium current, possessing the wonderful regenerating rays that
had brought perpetual life to the people of Mars, was gradually working
this change in my body over a distance of millions of miles? Impossible
as this seemed there was no other way of accounting for the remarkable
change which had taken place in my body.
The intense excitement I experienced at the thought of possessing
perpetual life, health, and youth was but momentary, and I reached my
laboratory with a full realization of the enormous responsibilities
which my discovery was placing upon me. I could no longer keep it
secret; each day that I withheld the knowledge of these rays from my
fellow beings, hundreds, nay thousands, of lives would be laid to my
account. The knowledge had not been given to me that I should guard it
selfishly. The hope that, even though I could never call Zarlah my own,
I might often spend a few happy hours with her in her Martian paradise
was now shattered forever. I must stifle my love or commit a crime
against every living soul on Earth; and as I paced my room in agony,
with my hands pressed to my temples to ease their throbbing, a great cry
of anguish from the multitude in Death's grasp rang through my brain. My
heart was torn asunder by two great conflicting emotions, Love and Duty,
and in this torture of mind and body I moved restlessly back and forth
in my room, until the fading light warned me of the near approach of
wave contact with Mars.
There was but one course open to me; I would tell Almos of my experience
with the rays, and if he should decide that they were the same as the
regenerating rays, possessing all their properties, and that continual
life was now within reach of the people on Earth, I would make my
discovery public on the morrow. This would be my solemn duty, no matter
what sacrifice it involved, and I could not help feeling that this
second visit to Mars might be the last.
A hasty examination of my instrument assured me that all was in order,
and, turning on the current, I now watched the surface of wires for the
glow that would signalize the commencement of wave contact. Should this
glow appear without an image of any kind it would have but one
meaning--that the mechanism of the virator had failed to do its work the
night previous, and that disaster had befallen Almos.
My heart beat fast, therefore, when in a short time a faint glow
appeared on the upper portion of my instrument and rapidly spread until
it covered the entire surface. As it grew brighter I was obliged to turn
away, before I could recognize any image, and, as I stood shielding my
eyes from the strong glare, I felt my heart sink within me. But, before
I could approach the instrument again, I heard my name called in the
clear, ringing tones of Almos' beloved voice.
I reached the instrument with a bound, and there, standing with his
hands extended toward me and a smile of greeting on his handsome face, I
saw my brave Martian brother.
"My dear Almos, how glad I am to see you are safe!" I cried, tears of
joy springing to my eyes at finding that the fears of a moment ago were
unfounded.
"It is entirely due to your forethought in leaving the note, that either
of us are safe," Almos responded. "Had you not done this, disaster to
one or both of us must certainly have resulted, through ignorance of
each other's plans. Let me congratulate you, my brave fellow, for having
so successfully accomplished your remarkable journey. This is the
initial step in the linking together of the destinies of Earth and Mars.
"But now I should like to hear an account of your experiences here, for
although I have gradually become aware of many impressions you left, I
find it is only of the things suggested by my mind that I can gather
anything."
"Then it is evident that the brain is merely a book of reference for the
mind," I replied, "as I was not instantly aware of your knowledge of
Martian affairs, but only upon a subject being suggested by my mind,
was the information regarding it available. Thus, the mind is aware of
impressions it has made on the brain, but is totally ignorant of
impressions made by another mind, unless the thought is suggested."
I now gave Almos a brief description of my journey, explaining that, as
I intended to make another visit to Mars that evening, I would leave the
full account of my experiences until the following night. I was careful
not to make any reference to Zarlah, as I felt that my second meeting
with her would put me in a much better position to approach Almos on
this extremely delicate subject and lay before him my plans. Moreover, I
was anxious that nothing should interfere with those few happy hours to
which I looked forward with such intense desire.
Almos listened to my narrative with wrapt attention, and not until I
concluded by describing the remarkable effects of the regenerating rays,
did he give utterance to a word. Then, to my amazement, he said:
"The result is what I fully expected. The proof that the regenerating
rays exist in the super-radium current, lies in the fact that your body
was perfectly preserved for six hours, and there is no reason for
supposing that they differ, in any way, from the rays which preserve
life here for an unlimited time."
"Then I can no longer keep my discovery a secret," I declared
resolutely. "It becomes my solemn duty at once to make public the
knowledge of these wonderful rays emanating from Mars."
"What you say is indeed the truth," rejoined Almos. "The time has now
arrived; the existence of a people on Mars, our early history, progress,
and the conditions under which we live at the present day, must now
become known upon Earth; our inventions and scientific advancement must
be made available to Earth's scientists. Since the discovery of the
radioscope, which enabled us to see the people on your planet, Mars has
yearned to give a helping hand to her younger sister. That time has now
come, and before many years the conditions of life on Earth will be
similar to those here. A great work must be accomplished, however, but
the burden of that work rests upon me; when it is finished the goal of
my life has been reached. There are many things that are not clear to
you now, my dear fellow, but there is no time at present for
explanations. In half an hour I shall have prepared for your
visit--remember, no matter what happens, tomorrow all shall be
explained."
Having thus spoken, his voice and manner evincing great earnestness and
determination, he waved his hand in farewell, and instantly the
instrument was plunged into darkness.
For some moments I stood motionless under the spell that his remarkable
personality had cast over me, nor did even his abrupt manner appear at
all strange, such perfect harmony of word and action existed in this
Martian genius. Indeed, it seemed a fitting conclusion to all that had
gone before. Speaking rapidly, as though realizing the loss of time in
mere words, his handsome face, strong with determination, holding me
fascinated, he had confessed the ambition nearest and dearest to his
heart--that of giving to Earth the discoveries and inventions of
hundreds of years of advancement in science; all that had resulted in
the longevity, health, peace, and happiness which existed upon Mars.
Humbled at my own insignificance and full of admiration for this great
character, I turned slowly away, and, procuring a light, commenced to
prepare for my journey.
My letters and other papers, with a brief note of explanation, still
remained on my desk, and, as my glance fell upon this bundle, I became
conscious of a nervousness, which, although to many would be perfectly
natural at such a time, was entirely strange to me. I had not
experienced the least nervousness on the occasion of my first visit the
night before, yet the mere sight of this package on my desk, with its
note of explanation, now caused me an uneasiness, which, try as I would,
I could not ignore.
Making the few necessary preparations about my room for the night, I
secured the door with lock and bolt, and, drawing my couch before the
instrument, poured out a glass of wine and lit a cigar, hoping thus to
steady my nerves.
The day had been warm and close, and a thunderstorm of unusual violence
made the night a wild one. Vivid flashes of lightning that seemed to vie
with each other in intensity, darted from the heavens, accompanied by
deafening crashes of thunder that shook the building to its
foundations, while the shrieking of the wind, as though it were rushing
through the rigging of a ship at sea, added to the noise of the tempest.
Within a few moments the glow on my instrument would be the signal for
my departure, and, as I prepared the cone of chloroform, I could not
suppress a shudder at the thought of my spirit going out into the fury
of such a storm. It seemed as if Death, in the fear of being driven from
Earth and forever despoiled of his cruel victories, had turned loose the
elements in his fury, and waited without to wreak vengeance on my
audacious spirit as it sped through space.
An instant an intensely white glare on the surface of wires at this
moment gave evidence of the super-radium current. It was the signal for
my departure, and, with a brief but earnest prayer, I seized the cone,
and, taking my position on the couch, inhaled the fumes of chloroform.
* * * * *